Decade of Denial
by ManyAnimaux
Summary: At a reunion event Granger and Snape allow themselves to acknowledge things left unsaid. Work in progress.
1. Chapter 1

Ten years of quashing all thoughts of him, burying herself in work, waking herself from her mocking idealistic dreams- almost nightly at first. Ten years of denial were forgotten when she had seen him again from across the hall. Her heart had almost flown from her chest. She had barely noticed the others at the reunion. She had managed to stay away for nearly an hour, while skirting conversations and sipping her spritzer slowly. Finally though, she caved and allowed herself to approach him.

"Ms Granger." He acknowledged her, with a slight nod of his head.

"Professor." She replied. He had waited for her to say more, but instead she moved to join him in leaning against the wall, her shoulder brushing his arm. They had never had much use for words. Before he healed he had been unable to speak without pain anyway, and as all hands were needed after the battle, she had become his nurse for a time. So many things had been left unsaid. A silent air of familiarity unfelt for a decade settled over them. Slowly, tentatively she had leaned in further, and breathed out into his ear a sentence that had burned in her mind over the years. She walked away, steeling herself not to look back to gauge his reaction.

And now she stood in her glittering, simple black dress, standing in the middle of her guest-allocated bedroom, waiting.

With almost silent footfalls, suddenly he was there. She knew he was standing behind her, in the door frame. She had always been so hyper-aware of his presence. All of her blood seemed to be pounding in her ears, her chest, her groin. Her breaths were shallow, her nerves were shooting stars down to her fingers, she felt lightheaded, and almost mad in her fear and sordid arousal.

She heard the door click shut, then the quiet grind of the metal bolt being slid across. His muttered set of wards secured and soundproofed the room with a flicker of blue tinted light. He took a single step towards her, and stopped.

What was he thinking? She wondered nervously. His breathing was even and deep. A long minute passed, she closed her eyes and tried to steady her nerves. A quiet slither made her breath catch and her eyes open. A small metallic noise was followed by the sound of leather running through cloth. She turned her head, enough to glimpse at him. He was staring at her, and let his belt drop from his hands.

Now he had her caught in his stare, she couldn't look away. The reality of his presence made her cheeks flush almost painfully in embarrassment. She really had whispered those secret needs to him among the throng of people in the great hall, he had actually followed her. His mouth twitched at her blush. With one hand, he undid a few of the stifling buttons on his shirt. Unsure of what to do, she clenched the hem of her dress, and started to lift it.

"Leave it." He breathed like a warning.

Immediately her hands opened, and she let them hang loose by her sides. His eyes were dark, his face in shadow, but she couldn't look away. Now he was here, alone with her, she could look without hiding her glances from others. She drank in the heady freedom of it. He moved towards her, in front of her, and stopped.

"You want this to happen?" he asked roughly.

She couldn't answer, her throat would only spasm. He waited, watching her struggle, then calmly reached out for the nape of her neck where he grabbed a fistful of her hair. She gasped and swallowed as the sensation of his grip fired through her body, she felt her nipples start to harden. The unexpected contact and control cleared her mind and her answer started to reverberate in her head like an echoed scream.

"Do. You. Want. Me?" He demanded.

She felt herself becoming aroused further, her pulse dropped to between her legs and a small noise of need escaped her. He kept his gaze steady as she swallowed.

"Yes." She whispered

He closed his eyes, and exhaled slowly. When he opened them the look he gave her was almost predatory. He released her hair and slid his hand down her back. She sighed out her desire in a ragged breath at his touch. He skimmed over her bottom and came to rest at her thigh, he collected the hem of her dress in his hand, inching it up to reveal her plain-topped stockings. In one fluid movement he lifted her dress up and over her head, taking a step back as he did so. She yelped in surprise and covered her bare breasts with her hands.

"You are beautiful," he told her. "Beautiful," he repeated. "Put your hands down."

He licked his lips and felt himself start to harden as she complied. To be wanted, desired, was almost like the hit of a drug. To see her willingly follow his commands- to see her body reacting to him- was almost too much- he took a moment to take in his surroundings, to check this was reality, and not another of his teasing, torturous dreams.

But there she was, watching him with anticipation.

He wasted no more time wondering at the turn of events, and moved towards her. His hands moved to her face, she seemed delicate to him. He leaned down to her neck and nuzzled his nose to her, breathing in her scent. Slowly he ran his lips up her neck, over her jaw and hovered over her mouth.

"Please, yes…" she gasped, and tried to lean into him, to find his lips.

At her eagerness he gave in, and enveloped her mouth with his. He ran his tongue over her bottom lip and caught it in a bite, she opened her mouth and gasped again at the wonderful, alien sensation and he took the moment to enter her mouth with his tongue, she tasted sweet, and she responded with vigour he had not expected, He ate at her and she moaned with pleasure…


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer to follow; I was nervous posting before and forgot as I posted in a rush.**

**AN: Yes it's going slow. I like slow. I want to try and create the mood that they really have been waiting and yearning for years, that they have that almost magical (hahaha) aura you have when you touch the object of your desire for the first time... Also I am trying to write correctly, I think it isn't flowing enough but please let me know your thoughts, thank you.**

**Disclaimer; All characters, Hogwarts, etc belong to JKR. I am but a smutty bystander. Smutty. **

Touching her was like touching fire, his hands burned at the joy of it. A thousand desires moaned into his pillow came to fruition in his arms. She was illicit, untouchable, _here, whispering pleas into his mouth_. The need of her had danced over his soul so many times he had grown used to the dull ache of it- resigned to the knowledge that she was, for him, fantasy only.

His thoughts were mirrored in her… she hoped he felt the years of her obsession pouring into him from her, that he could somehow understand how the feel of him with his hands cradling her head, controlling her mouth, was the most bittersweet sensation she had ever had the ability to feel. At any moment she expected him to dissipate into another unfulfilled dream, leaving her panting and unsated.

They stopped the kiss, lips separating slowly. Each searched the face of the other. Each waited for the moment of waking to unwillingly part them. Long moments passed and both were still undeniably present and real; palpable, hot, reeking of desire and holding back by the last of their reserves.

Hermione closed her eyes and leaned her head against his.

"…Please…" She whispered desperately, clutching at his collar with both hands in shaking fists. A heartbeat later she was lifted by her waist and found herself for one bewildering moment in the air before landing with a soft exhalation on her soft bed. Startled, she looked towards her old professor.

He had kicked off his shoes and socks, his hands were at the last of his shirt buttons. He walked towards her, pulling it off, letting it drop to the floor.

He had the most wonderful torso, still as slender as she remembered from her days of caring for him; the wiry muscles were there- the hairs, now greying, leading down below his trousers, his nipples dark against his pale skin. He was powerful; the numerous scars faded since she last saw them, but marking him as a survivor. As he knelt on the bed and started to crawl towards her she absently began tracing her own scars. His hand joined hers and she almost jumped at the touch. He leaned into her and she allowed herself to fall back into the bed, his silver-streaked hair caressing her face as his hands guided hers over her head.

She arched her body to try and touch his; he didn't allow it but took the moment to savour the sight of her beautiful, strong body writhing under him. She was like him; pale and scarred but perfect. Her breasts were tipped with her painfully hard nipples- rosy bundles of nerves calling him to them. He followed the call and dropped his head to pull one delicate bud into his mouth.

She almost screamed, the anticipation of his touch had driven her senses into a haywire, nuclear powerhouse. As his tongue rolled over her nipple she wondered how she didn't simply explode, she felt as though the white-hot waves of pleasure should have been visible through her skin. He pulled more of her breast into his mouth and nipped at her with his teeth; the pleasure crested to pain and back again in a moment of wonderful ecstasy.

He gave out a muffled groan at the whimpers she made as he worried at her breast, he was so ready to enter her that his trousers had become painful; his hardness pressed against the unforgiving material, he could feel it had become damp with his essence. A myriad possibilities flooded his mind; him atop her, thrusting with wild abandon, or taking her from behind, or having her riding above him, or her delicate mouth over his manhood, or his tongue exploring her most sensitive area…

He pushed himself off of her and yelled in inarticulate frustration. He balled his hands into fists and pressed them to his forehead as he caught his breath. He wanted to explore all of her, to map and claim each landmark of her body. He needed to hear all of the ways in which he could coax his name from her lips... the idea of one quick fumble- never to touch her again afterwards- filled him with a kind of madness.

Silence descended over the pair.

"Severus…" she said softly. "Please, don't stop now, I… I can't describe how it feels to have you touch me." He opened his eyes and looked at her, she was tracing and retracing a small pattern in the bedcovers, avoiding his gaze.

"I don't think I could go away from you and not go mad, now… now I know you want the same." A shining, fat tear wobbled and dropped from her downcast eyes. "Gods, I feel so stupid," she admitted, "the years I've wasted wondering… Merlin, this is embarrassing…" she stopped herself to peek at him, and was taken aback to see his black eyes shining slightly with reciprocated emotion. He leaned toward her, a fierce look on his face.

"I want to touch you. I want to do so many things to you, with you, for you. Don't think now that you are here that I will let you go after one quick fuck, Ms. Granger." he spat. He watched her reaction; she licked her lips and her breathing sharpened, he closed the last few inches between them and caught her mouth with his, when she responded by trying to climb on top of him he laughed, a sound which took both of them by surprise.

"It's good to hear you laugh," Hermione whispered. A sombre look flitted across the professor's face before he allowed himself the ghost of a smile.

"It's rare but it's been known to happen," he quipped.

"Maybe I'll hear it again?" She replied, and fixed her gaze in his meaningfully, "We have all night…"


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thank you to Lordhightoppfan, Allyll, , bluefirefly5 and in particular to notyetanotheralias for your comments :) I really do appreciate them, and it feels really good to know people are enjoying it so far.**

**Disclaimer: HP & all therein are the intellectual property of JKR.**

Still sitting astride him, a flash came to Hermione of one of her many revisited fantasies. As Severus ran his hands up her arms and started to pull her down for another kiss, she shook her head and smiled. He frowned as she started to wriggle down his body, but his expression cleared into one of expectation as her hands found the button of his trousers.

"Would you let me…?" she asked, running a fingernail up and down the zip of his fly.

"Oh, yes indeed," he said, voice slightly strained, and let his head drop back onto the bed. He had driven this very idea from his lust-fuelled mind on many occasions, and now the witch was here…

Hermione slowly unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers. He lifted his hips slightly as she pulled them down and off his legs. She smirked at the thought that he had gone without underwear; then she stopped thinking at all for a moment as she took in the view she had- finally_- finally-_ of his naked body.

He was a beautifully crafted creature; she let her eyes drink him in, his legs were toned- slender, yet the muscles were defined. His hipbones made themselves known without protruding, and the dark hair of his chest was mirrored at his groin, where his member stood with a slight, elegant curve towards his abdomen.

She crawled onto his legs again, and propped herself up. She glanced up at his face, and he lifted his head to meet her eyes. She chose the moment to take a firm grip of him, and dropped her mouth over his tip. His eyes widened at the sensation of her bold move, but he kept watching as she dropped her gaze. He found the sight of her holding him in hand and mouth almost as overwhelming as her touch.

He was salty in her mouth, silky under her hand. His skin was so very soft there, velvety, warm, and pulsing with his energy. She stilled and let her tongue explore him. She heard him grunt and exhale sharply. In response she pulled more of him into her mouth, and started massaging the base of him with her hand, he seemed to grow harder in her mouth, and she felt the ridges of his veins under her tongue.

She lifted herself off him with a wet noise and repositioned herself to take her weight solely on her knees. She kissed the tip of him before sliding him into her mouth again, and with her free hand she reached down to between her own legs, and found her underwear to be wet. She smiled around his member and started rubbing slow circles over her hooded bud, causing her to start gyrating her hips subconsciously as she continued tending to him with her mouth.

After some time of her attentions, and as he felt himself starting to build up to climax he lifted his hands and reached out for her mane of hair, clutching fists of it. She whimpered around him and her pace increased on him and on herself. He heard himself groaning aloud with pleasure, and tightened his grip on her hair as he tried to clear his mind.

"Stop, Hermione, wait," he managed to say, "I'm very close." She paused for a moment and rolled her eyes at him, then smiled and went back to her task with enthusiasm.

He stopped his self-control at her clear preference, and allowed the sensations to ripple through him as she stopped touching herself to bring her hand up to cup and gently massage his testes. He groaned again and released his hands from her hair to grab at the sheets. The feel of all of her attention was phenomenal, his chest felt as though it would burst at the joy of it. He felt incapable of coherent thought, and her tongue rasping over the very tip of him every time she pulled up was what undid him. He tapped at her shoulder but she only took him in deeper as she felt his body tense before he gave a hoarse cry and came into her mouth in hot, ecstatic waves. She swallowed reflexively; revelling in what she felt was a gift, her fantasy come to life.

She released him and smiled with a dreamy look. His chest heaved as he panted and drifted down from his plane of pleasure. She pushed herself up and collapsed next to him, writhing in her own afterglow of satisfaction.

For a time the pair let their breathing settle, temperatures lower, and thought to return.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time, you know." Hermione said tentatively.

"I've thought about you doing that for a long time. Though_ I_ sound perverted," replied Severus. In response Hermione allowed herself to laugh sadly.

"You don't sound perverted. You sound like I should have said something sooner."

"Or I should." He countered. Then he sighed heavily. "Though, I never would have. I would have turned you down, too, if you had propositioned me before."

Hermione turned her head to look at him fully. He let his eyes rake her up and down, before looking away and continuing.

"The kiss we shared, that last night in the infirmary… that should not have happened. I was weak, you were young, and hurting from the aftermath of the battle. I felt I had taken something from you, some innocence stolen."

A minute of silence lay over his words, Hermione thought back to the night, to the kiss.

"You did take something," she started, and hastily continued as she saw his face twist into a grimace, "you took away some of my pain. I was young, but I had more than enough of life experience by then. Pain, suffering, loss, betrayal, fear… I was fatigued by it, eroded by it. It may have been just a kiss, but it gave me the impetus to keep going. It gave me the knowledge that there were things I hadn't been able to experience yet that were worth seeking out, that there was still joy in life to be had after… after others have died." She finished sadly. He nodded slowly and flashed her a small, understanding half-smile.

"You give me too much credit, but I cannot deny I felt something similar." He huffed and rolled towards her, reaching out his hand to run a slender finger over her lips, back and forth, as if memorising every line. "I have wondered, sometimes, if you cursed me in some way. I feel chased by my thoughts of you. You have, at times, felt inescapable, you witch."

"The same to you." She whispered, and turned away from his hand as a blush began colouring her cheeks. He reached around and cupped her cheek, turning her back to him. He propped himself up on an elbow and leaned over her, pressing his lips to hers gently. She opened her mouth to him and forgot her embarrassment as their tongues danced and her need blossomed afresh. Suddenly though she stopped and pushed slightly at his chest. He pulled away, heady-lidded and flushed himself.

"Why tonight?" She demanded, raising an eyebrow at him. "If you would have said no before; why did you follow me up here tonight?" She watched him carefully as he blinked slowly.

"It seemed enough." He cleared his throat. "Enough time, enough wanting. I had imagined you before, approaching me- or me approaching you… and it never felt right. You had your life to live, I was too unsure of these obsessions. I was_- am_- too old, too damaged, too unable to live normally. It was a sordid dream to me. And then there you were tonight, alone. All the thoughts dissolved. Those that would have cared are dead or gone away. I felt as though I knew none of those people downstairs. And then there you were, also untouched by the others. That and the shock of hearing you whisper to me what you wanted, and your room number. I had to follow. I couldn't not."

He watched her carefully as she took in her words, she nodded as he finished and gave another small laugh. "Enough. Yes, I think that's what I had felt, too." She pushed herself up to meet his lips with hers tentatively, "I couldn't have walked away from you without saying anything…"

"I'm very glad you didn't walk away," he said around her lips. His hand drifted down to her breast, and his eyes flashed wickedly as her breath caught and she released a small moan. "Or I wouldn't have had the opportunity to do this…"


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Sorry for being a bit slower with this update, I have been afflicted with the lurgy, boo, hiss. Thanks again to Allyll- I really appreciate your reviews! Also to and smithback for your reviews. In answer to Allyll- I might continue on past this night if there's interest, and if it seems right to continue following their story…**

**I really do like hearing if people are enjoying this, or have any feedback, so please do comment if you feel like it!**

**Disclaimer: HP's world, HP characters etc. are property of the wonderful JKR. As aforementioned I am merely a smutty bystander.**

He traced a slow circle over her breast before curling his fingers around her nipple and holding it securely. She had stilled completely under his newly deliberate touch. He watched her face; she had shut her eyes and caught her bottom lip in her teeth. He started to twist her nipple and she bit her lip a little harder but accepted the twinge of pain. Severus smiled again and pulled her breast up by his grip, he was rewarded with a small gasp and released her nipple to let his hand continue caressing her torso.

Her skin was shiny and thickened with scars in some places; war wounds. He ran the back of his nails over these spots, making Hermione twitch and buck at each unexpected, delicious scrape.

Severus drew his hand down to circle the sensitive skin over her hipbones, he pushed himself further down the bed, kissed her sensuously there, then scraped his chin over the same spot, eyes still on Hermione's face. She groaned and writhed at the sandpaper sensation of his slight stubble over her unprotected skin but kept her eyes resolutely shut, fearing he would stop if she so much as looked at him.

"Hermione." He said clearly, "Roll over and kneel on all fours."

She nodded and moved as he asked, that full bottom lip still captured in her teeth. She felt exposed in that position- as if on show- with her black knickers, stockings and heels still on. She felt him move behind her and wondered if he was enjoying her vulnerable situation. She felt oddly aroused- she had never felt so on display before.

He let his hands ghost up and down her sides, smiling at the goose bumps he raised. He felt his resolve crumble as she moaned a little at his more gentle touch. He reached out, grabbed a fistful of her abundant hair and pushed her down, forcing her upper body to press into the mattress, he held her in place for a moment, silently expressing his desire for her to remain still, then he released her and knelt back.

Her bottom was raised now, like an altar he should worship at. She was rounded and beautiful. He hooked his fingers over either side of her knickers and pulled them down leisurely as Hermione obligingly lifted one knee, then the other, so he could drop them to the floor. Her mound peeked through her legs, and he toyed with the idea of running his tongue over her to taste her, but his rapidly rejuvenating manhood urged him to put aside that desire for later. He had her spread before him, willingly offering herself to him, he could see her arousal; and felt himself jerk into harder readiness in response.

She moaned into the pillows as the cool air of his subconscious exhalation teased at her opening. As soon as she made her small noise of desire his hands were at her sides again, firmly this time, clutching at her- a moment later she felt the warm tip of him rub a smooth line down her glistening folds to pause, pulsing, at her clitoris. She rubbed her forehead back and forth over the pillow desperately,

"Please, please, please, please, please…" she chanted like an incantation, and was rewarded as he started moving up and down over her folds, mingling his own juices with hers, driving her to push back in her suddenly wild need, but his hands cruelly tightened at her hips and held her in place. She whimpered and gripped at the sheets with clawed hands, only to freeze in place as she felt him pause at her entrance, hot, wet, waiting.

A heartbeat stretched to a millennia.

Then he pushed into her, and the world moved again. He drove carefully, inexorably to the very end of her, then pulled out with the same care. She tried to force herself back onto him in her desire, but he was so very much stronger than her and held her in place.

His head was thrown back, ecstasy written on his features. He was torturing himself at this pace; but it was delicious torture. She writhed beneath him as he explored her slowly. She enveloped him perfectly; incredibly wet, he slipped in and out of her with the most decadent of sounds, revelling in the smooth acceptance of his head into her passage each time, an intense and intimate caress he savoured fervently.

He started to lose his self-control, she was moaning guttural prayers into her pillow with each push, and his thighs had become slippery with their mingled essence, he grit his teeth, bowed his head, and allowed himself to fulfil his fantasy.

She lost herself when he began pounding into her; she gasped her screams into the bed and felt waves of climax build at the painful pleasure of each slamming thrust. She had imagined being taken by him in so many ways, and yet this was perfect; animalistic, base, true to instinct. She raised her head and grabbed fistfuls of the sheets as her body began to unravel.

"Sev…Severus… God, Severusss…" she caught her tongue between her teeth and tried to hold on, to wait, but he only dug his nails into her and kept hammering.

"Come for me, Hermione, Come for me," he hissed between his teeth.

He felt her entire body stiffen in an all-encompassing, silent apex before she crashed into her orgasm with harsh, wordless screams, he kept his pace as he felt her pulse around him, squeezing him closer to his own relief. His hair, damp with his exertion, swung around his face, his brows met as he drove into her a final time and he felt himself release into her in scalding, overwhelming pulsations,

"Hermione!" he rasped, and let his head drop as the last of his climax trembled through his body.

He stayed in place, breathing ragged and heart slowing from its fevered pace. He had never felt so utterly spent, so completely fulfilled. He hated to disentangle from her, but his thighs threatened to topple him after his exertions, and so with a small moan from her, he pulled himself from her warm embrace. He allowed himself a moment of licentious excitement at the sight of his seed starting to drip from her folds before he gently toppled to lie next to her.

Hermione slowly opened her eyes and let her hips gracefully slip sideways so she lay facing him. A lazy, satisfied smile played at her lips as she caught her own breath. She stretched luxuriously, then giggled as her high heels snagged in the sheets, she reached down with one hand and pulled them both off, dropping them over the side of the bed.

Their eyes met. Hermione waited for the blush, but it didn't appear. Instead she confidently held his gaze, and kept smiling. He drank in her expression, memorised her swollen lips, her dark eyes and wild hair. He branded his mind with this moment. He felt suddenly overawed at the actuality of their connection and his heart gave a strange jolt. He felt his mouth move to mirror Hermione's smile.

"Stay," she whispered.

"Yes," he replied.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN at bottom of page :)**

**Disclaimer: HP, Hogwarts, all characters and places therein are property of JKR. I own nothing, I tells ya, nothing! (…apart from a sadly overactive imagination…)**

Hermione gave a satisfied moan as she stretched, and then rolled to the edge of the bed to sit up.

"These stockings are ruined." She noted, running her fingers over the soiled tops with a small smile on her face.

"Did you wear them for me?" Severus asked, his deep voice seeming to reverberate through her.

She swallowed and lifted her head to inspect the ceiling for a moment. She recalled getting dressed earlier in the evening, sliding the stockings up her legs and imagining another pair peeling them back off.

"I can only say that I knew that I would see you here." She said eventually.

"Yes. I am always… here." He murmured. Hermione twisted to look at him but he didn't meet her eyes. She turned away, and both slipped into their own minds in peaceful silence for a few minutes until Hermione shivered a little.

Severus sat up and pulled the rumpled duvet over her shoulders. He moved to sit next to her. Each could feel the air between them as if it were tangible. Even after succumbing to their desire and finding release, their connection had remained untainted. Hermione could still feel her chest tightening with the need of him. The unknowing of his actions weighed on her consciousness, and sent her skin into a heightened vigilance- she was aware of his every shift and breath. Giddily, she felt the years strip from her burdened mind as the emotions of her teenage self surged through her.

This intense capsule they had created was what had been missing from her prior relationships; it had been what drove her to attend the reunion, to his side, to this room. She longed to reach out to him, to run her hands over him again and again until she knew the terrain of his body as she did her own. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to locate her sanity.

He watched the play of emotions on her face; she had clearly never learnt to hide them well despite his many warnings when she nursed him all those years ago. As she shut her eyes and sucked in a steadying breath he fought the urge to pull her to him, to soothe her consternation with words of comfort, words of reassurance- to kiss her so fiercely she would never doubt his own feelings toward her. He sighed heavily. He wanted to devour her doubt, burn it away with the fire of his hidden dedication.

They sat, and the air thickened once more with words left unsaid. Finally Hermione opened her eyes.

"I'm going to shower," she said quietly and stood. She saw him turn to watch her stretch again, his eyes dropping to her breasts once more. His look gave her renewed courage as a flame of desire reignited within her.

"Would you come with me?" She asked openly. In response he blinked lazily, mouth twitching at the corners, and stood with a pained groan as his knees clicked.

Hermione led the way to the basic en suite, and leaned in to the cubicle to turn the water on. She heard the door click shut; a moment later felt the heat of his body against her back, her skin tingled with his hot, exhaled breath on her shoulder. She shut her eyes at the sensation and leant against the frame.

The water finally started running hot and the room began to fill with steam.

"Spread your legs for me," he muttered into her ear, sending a frisson rippling through her torso. He knelt and ran his hands reverentially over her left ankle, following the curve of her calf, stopping at the crook of her knee as he ran his thumbs over the thin skin there. She released a long, shuddering breath, and his hands inched up to rub back and forth over the top of the stocking before his fingers hooked over the material and he was easing it down her leg. As she lifted her foot for him he caught her heel in his hands, lifted it to his mouth and nipped lightly at the tendon there before releasing her to repeat his actions on her right leg.

Hermione breathed the steam in deeply and hoped he would continue his exploration of her legs, and felt a pang of disappointment when she felt the air move around her as he stood up.

He leaned into her and braced his hands either side of her head, enjoying her slight squirm as she quelled the urge to writhe back against him.

"Get in the shower." He directed. She complied, ducking under his arm and backing under the hot spray.

He drank in the sight of her. The water had darkened her hair to almost black, and her skin had turned a delicious pink in the heat. The water sluiced between her breasts and ran in thick rivulets between her legs. Her chest rose heavily as she gasped under the direct flow. She watched him with an eagerness which sent his cock twitching. He walked into the shower and shut the door behind him.

She reached out a hand and found his wrist, with a slight tug of encouragement he stood under the water and pressed himself to her, running his lips over her hairline. She felt him start to harden against her abdomen and she ran her arms up to meet behind his neck, running her fingers through the hairs at the nape. He groaned and wrapped his arms around her torso as he yanked her into an all-consuming kiss. He was furiously eating at her mouth, and she whimpered at the small pains while her body reacted with pleasure. She struggled to breathe under the flow of the shower and would have willingly drowned to keep him kissing her like that but he pushed her back to the wall until her head was clear of the flow and broke away from her mouth. He panted heavily and stared into her eyes for an unfathomable moment before leaning in and softly covering her lips with his own.

This kiss was slower, gentle; she felt as if she was being revered and responded in kind, as the kiss deepened she sighed into his mouth with contentment.

"Hermione," he whispered, and thumped the wall with his fist. He let his head drop until his forehead rested against hers. They breathed hot, shaky breaths into each other's mouths as she waited for him to continue.

"You… you are like a phantom. I cannot fathom your being here. I feel like a man half mad," he groaned.

"And you think I feel much different?" She shot back. She reached down between them and circled her hand around the length of him, his eyes fluttered closed.

"This in my hand, the idea that this is inspired by me; that is madness." She squeezed him, eliciting a sharp gasp; "And yet it lies hot and ready in my palm. Here you are in front of me. I am solid, I am here, touch me, Severus. We can go mad together if this is some dream, but just touch me," she pleaded, and felt tears pricking at her eyes.

His lips crashed into hers as he clutched her to him. He dropped his arms to her thighs and stooped slightly to grip her, only to lift her slippery body up against the wall. She used her hand to guide him to her opening as he slid her down onto him. She was tense, using her strength to grip him with her arms and legs, and he had to force himself to ease her down slowly, allowing the water to lubricate his passage into her.

She threw her head back and released feral growl. He lost his control and pulled her down the last inch of his length; she gave a small yelp but almost immediately started to grind her hips against him in a frantic rhythm. The animalistic need she keened into his ear slammed his body into an overwhelming rush of pleasure and he bucked wildly into her, grunting with each thrust. Swiftly he felt her tighten around his cock, and he clumsily released one arm to bring his hand round to the stiffened bud of her clitoris. Only three strokes of his fingers sent her screaming into her climax, the tight clenching of her walls pulled him closer to his release and he pushed into her only a few more times before he came into her welcoming body, legs shaking, chest heaving.

He let her slide to the floor and heavily joined her. They watched the water cascade over each other and swirl down the drain, taking their worries with it.

Severus gave a sharp bark of laughter and ran a hand through his sopping hair. He saw Hermione's confused look and smirked.

"We didn't get very clean, did we?" 

**AN: Ahoy! So I've been wondering how you lot see SS and HG in your minds? I like the films but I don't imagine the actors' visages when writing- the characterisation in the film seems to me like it would not go any further between the two, whereas I feel the canon characters allow for subjective readings and give a wider character base for the imagination to spring from. Thoughts? Opinions? Also I meant to state their ages even though it's obvious, SS would be around 48 and HG around 29 in this fanfic.**

**Thank you very much indeed for all the comments! Thank you Angel897, LoveInTheBattleField, onecelestialbeing (Squeeeeee! Fangirl moment btw!), AuroraMcGonagall and lordhightopfan! I wasn't really expecting any reviews when I started writing but I am so enjoying reading them! Really gives me impetus to keep writing :)**


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